


Your blood on my hands

by Sams_Soliloquy



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Apparently not a ficclet anymore, Drabble, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, My little ficclet's growing up!, So proud!, ficclet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-20
Updated: 2014-11-20
Packaged: 2018-01-02 03:06:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sams_Soliloquy/pseuds/Sams_Soliloquy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo takes an arrow for Thorin. </p><p>This is a short little ficclet I wrote inspired by a piece of fanart on Tumblr. The art is a piece by Kaciart and it can be found here: http://kaciart.tumblr.com/post/40494581818</p><p>Surprise! There is now a part 2! It involves Rock slides, Fluff, and an Angry mountain-climbing Hobbit.</p><p>Also a Part 3! Thorin and Bilbo in Laketown. Wounds, worry, and poison!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

“Oh god’s that hurts…” gasped Bilbo, wrapping his arms tighter around his waist in an effort to dull the pain.

He could feel the warm expanse of Thorin behind him as well as an arm holding him steady as he hurriedly directed Fili and Kili. “Go. Get water and some bandages and I’ll need a knife. Hurry!”

His voice was raised in what Bilbo would have guess was panic if Thorin had been a normal Dwarf but he knew Thorin was much too gruff and stoic for that to be true. Bilbo’s side burned.

_‘At least he is alive.’ _Thought Bilbo as he felt the stickiness of the blood beneath his hands. He had acted without thought. The orcs had ambushed and the dwarves had been fighting for their lives. Even Bilbo was helping the best he could with his letter opener. It had finally began to look like they would win this battle and live to see another day when Bilbo had spotted an Orc atop one of the rocky outcroppings that dotted the land around them. The sun was glinting off something that the orc had raised and was pointing at Thorin who was busy cutting through another orc.__

_‘ARROW!’ _Bilbo’s mind had screamed his body already in motion. There had been no thought, no hesitation before he was throwing his entire weight against Thorin. Pushing the other to the ground as he felt the arrow pierce his side, separating layers of fat and flesh and lodging there. The momentum of his collision with Thorin landed him face down on top of the dwarf king.__

“Foolish hobbit what are you doing!” Thorin roared as he none too gently flipped the hobbit onto his back to see his face. Bilbo could see the instant understanding in Thorin’s gaze as he looked the Halfling over. Gently Thorin turned Bilbo so he was resting between his legs and against his chest before yelling for Fili and Kili. Bilbo could feel himself beginning to lose consciousness, the pain and exhaustion and fear too much for his small body to handle as it began shutting down, darkness curling around the edge of his vision. “Stay awake hobbit.” Growled Thorin as he too wrapped his arms around Bilbo to put pressure on his wound. “You do not have my permission to sleep. You must stay awake.” 

Bilbo tried to chuckle at the sentiment, as if Thorin Oakenshield King under the Mountain could just order him to stay awake. Bilbo felt his arms begin to grow heavy and he lost the strength to press against his wounds. His eyes started to drift closed, oblivious to the noises around him as the other dwarves finished off the last few orcs. Bilbo could hear Kili and Fili’s voices. _‘They must be back with the bandages. Maybe I’ll survive this yet.’ ___

The pain was becoming more bearable as his thoughts began to wander and his pain took on a fuzzy feeling, like his vision had. He was about to just let go and drift off but before he could something jerked in his wound and the arrow shaft was swiftly pulled from his side.

Bilbo’s eyes flew open and he screamed with the pain of it. For a moment all he could see was red even though he knew his eyes were open. He also felt tears running down his face. _‘I will never hear the end of this from Kili and Fili. Crying like a babe. How embarrassing.’ ___

Bilbo could feel a gentle hand brushing the hair from his eyes and combing it back from his face and he was reminded of simpler times sitting in the garden with his mother as she read to him about elves and adventures. _‘Of course’ thought Bilbo wryly ‘Adventures aren’t all they are cracked up to be.’ ___

His vision finally cleared but the raw fiery pain was still there and Bilbo tried to push on the wound as if to physically push the pain away but his hand were stopped by someone who held them gently but firmly away. He could not stop sobbing and he felt the soothing hand in his hair and he tried to focus on that rather than the pain. In the back recesses of his mind, in the only part of him that was still coherent enough to be thinking rationally, Bilbo knew that part of the pain he was feeling was because someone was stitching the wound. He squeezed the hand that was holding his and the hand squeezed back. Bilbo also became aware of a sound, soft whispers being spoken into his hair. Another part of his mind realized that it was Thorin who was stroking his hair and whispering. Thorin who was holding him. Bilbo tried to make out what he was saying. "Hush little one, you are safe. I know it hurts. I know. Shhh it’s almost over. And then I’ll keep you safe. I’ll make sure nothing like this ever happens to you again. I swear it."

Bilbo raised his head from where it was buried in the dwarf kings tunic and tried to focus on Thorin. 

“This arrow-w” Bilbo slurred “would ha- killed you. I would --- again in a heartbeat.” Bilbo tried to focus on Thorin’s eyes to make sure he understood, before the pain and exhaustion clouded his vision once more. The grip on his hand tightened and he barely made out what Thorin was saying in return. “I will never allow you to do something so foolish again, Halfling. I can’t have you dying anytime soon.”

Bilbo felt someone coaxing him to swallow and he did. It must have been a healing potion, as it tasted foul but almost instantly the pain began to fade and so did Bilbo’s hold on consciousness.

"Can I sss-leep now” slurred the hobbit as the draught took its effect. 

He could feel the dwarf’s chest rumble beneath him with a relieved chuckle. “Yes little Halfling. You have my permission to sleep now. I will keep you safe.” "Good" Bilbo mumbled into the dwarf king’s tunic. He was just about asleep when he felt himself being gently picked up and moved somewhere only to be set down again and gathered close. “Sleep well, Bilbo Baggins.” 

And sleep he did.


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Apparently there is a part 2 to this story! Who knew?! 
> 
> Actually, I didn't really have any plans to continue this until I received a review from Becksibee who said they were subscribing in case I decided to continue and I apparently took this a personal challenge... 
> 
> So here is part 2 and I even have a Part 3 in the works which might also be split into a part 4 because it's getting long... 
> 
> and I told myself I wasn't going to start another multi-part story... go figure!
> 
> Anyways, I hope you like part 2, it may not be quite what you were expecting but I like it so there is that! =)

‘ _Hobbits are not meant to climb mountains!’_ Bilbo grumbled mentally to himself as he stumbled once more on a sharp rock. His back ached from the heaviness of his pack, his feet were not use to such rough and uneven terrain and he was colder than he could ever remember being in the shire. All in all he was not pleased by the current turn of events and he would much rather be wrapped in his bathrobe and huddled in his overstuffed armchair back at Bag-end. But instead he was here: on this god forsaken mountain, following a group of what he was now considering half-witted dwarfs, marching his way up a mountain in, what felt like, the middle of winter. This was not his favorite day of this adventure, to say the least. 

Finally after another hour of hiking, Bilbo decided he had had enough. Using the fuel from his currently seething thoughts, Bilbo marched his way up the line to the front where Thorin- Bloody-Oakenshield was leading the company. 

“Master Oakenshield! Might I have a word?” 

Thorin paused and took one look at the silently fuming hobbit before nodding and leading Bilbo further along the path as the rest of the company sat down for a quick rest.

“Yes, Master Baggins? There is a problem I assume?”

“You’re darn right there is a problem!” Exploded Bilbo “Never before have I seen such complete and utter idiocy as this quest! You presume to reclaim your mountain, but I don’t see how that will happen if you don’t take care of your company! I’m sure everyone would like to make it to your mountain still hale and whole rather than killed on _this_ blasted mountain! Now I’ve said my piece and I think we should find a place to stop for the night. Of course you are the leader of this group so it is yours to decide.” 

Thorin, who had been staring silently at the enraged hobbit as he fumed, chuckled once in his low voice before responding “Is that so Master Baggins?”

Bilbo was just about to give Thorin another piece of his mind but he was interupted before he had a chance to voice another word. There was a mighty shake of the Earth, as if the whole mountain gave a shudder, which was followed by an almighty _CRACK_ as the ledge below Bilbo and Thorin’s feet suddenly gave way. 

Not wasting a second in thought, Bilbo threw all of his weight against Thorin’s side, sending the still stunned Dwarf King careening off of the quickly disappearing ledge and onto sturdier ground. 

Thorin grunted at the sudden impact and he spun as he fell, just in time to watch Bilbo’s fearful expression as he disappeared off of the cliff, along with a large chunk of the ledge which they had been standing on. 

“BILBO!” Thorin cried as he scrambled to the edge of the cliff, searching frantically for golden curls amongst the rock slide that followed the sudden earthquake. All Thorin could see was a rocky river of stones, gravel, and dirt. “BILBO!” Thorin bellowed again. 

The shaking of the mountain had startled the rest of the company into action and they raced around the cornered and were stunned by the sight in front of them.

The mountain side looked as if it had simply lost its shape and collapsed into a pile of rubble. Thorin was leaning over the newly formed rock river and crying out for their burglar. It didn’t take a mastermind to put two and two together and even some of the slower dwarves instantly realized what had happened. Dwalin was the first who rushed into action, but the others were soon to follow. 

“Thorin!” growled Dwalin pulling his friend to a stand and giving him a rough shake “We need to find him. There isn’t much time if he is trapped beneath the rocks. Pull yourself together.” 

“He pushed me out of the way” said Thorin as his gaze hardened and the determination returned to his eyes. “We must find him. Dwarrows! Spread out and search the rubble. We must move quickly!” 

The dwarves all respond in some way, with either a verbal “Aye!” like Gloin or a silent and deadly serious nod like Fili and Nori as they began their desperate search. An hour passed and hope for finding the hobbit began to fade as the Dwarves continue their search halfheartedly. 

Finally there was a shout “Here!” Thorin was the first to respond and he rushed to where Dwalin was struggling to move a boulder. As he got closer Thorin recognized the unruly mop of golden curls, now highlighted with blood, which could only belong to one person. “Bilbo!”

 He was half buried under the sea of gravel and rocks as well as the large boulder that Dwalin had given up on moving by himself.  There was a small trickle of blood on the Halfling’s mouth, the source of which was unclear to Thorin. Thorin was more focused on the fact that Bilbo was awake and staring up at him eyes half lidded with exhaustion and pain. But at least he was awake.

 Thorin knelt down next to Bilbo’s shoulder so that the hobbit could see him without too much trouble. Dwalin crouched down as well on the other side of their burglar. 

 “Keeping you alive is turning into a major battle, Burglar” said Dwalin, half joking, half serious trying to lighten the mood of the situation. Bilbo chuckled lightly, the sound quiet and breathy compared to his normal laugh, and another drop of blood trickled slowly down Bilbo’s cheek before landing and soaking into the rock dust. 

Thorin gently placed a hand on Bilbo’s head both to comfort himself to the fact that his Halfling was still alive and to also check for any major bleeding or bumps. Oin would check him over more thoroughly, but the older dwarf was having a harder time descending the mountain then the others so he had elected to stay up on the path till needed.  

“Bilbo, can you move?” 

Bilbo shifted slightly, wincing as he moved. “I think that large boulder has my leg pinned.”

Thorin nodded once in understanding. “We’ll move it and I’ll pull you free. Be still.”

This time it was Bilbo’s turn to nod in understanding. By this point Dwalin and Thorin had been joined by Fili, Kili, Gloin, and Dori, all of which banded together and with Dwalin’s help were able to lift the stone enough that Thorin could swiftly pull the Hobbit free. 

Thorin tried to keep Bilbo still and flat on his back to prevent anymore injury, but the hobbit would hear none of it. “I’m perfectly fine and I don’t need any more dirty dwarf hands ruining what’s left of my waistcoat, thank you very much!” He sat up and promptly started dusting himself off as if the very nerve of the mountain collapsing on his only waistcoat offended him. 

Finally Oin arrived and ordered Bilbo to cease his movements so that he could check him over. Bilbo had a large scratch above his ear that was shallow but was bleeding quite a bit. His ankle was bruised and swollen but not twisted or broken. “You were lucky Master Baggins.” Commented Oin “I’ve seen many dwarves after mine collapses and there are only a rare few who come out with as few injuries as you do, lad.” 

Oin’s comment was the straw that broke the camel’s back, as it were, and all the stress and fear of the situation finally caught up to Thorin and he snapped back “Luck! You could have been killed! What were you thinking? Why do you keep sacrificing yourself? Do you wish to die!?” Bilbo tried to voice his reasons but Thorin was not yet done. “Halfling! I have not asked for your protection! Why do you insist on doing yourself bodily harm in my stead?! First the arrow and now this. You were lucky the elves, foul tree shaggers that they are, were able to heal you quickly. What if you had broken a limb? What would we have had to do then burglar? Are we to carry you for the rest of the journey?!” 

“Now see here Thorin Bloody Oakenshield! I have had it up to here with your attitude!” Interrupted Bilbo with a shout, surging to his full height to poking Thorin in the chest to emphasize each point. “You do not have to ask me to protect you! Aule only knows why you confounded dwarves think you have to face everything alone. That arrow would have killed you! This rock slide would have _killed_ you! I am only trying to keep you alive long enough to get you to your bloody mountain and even then you are going to have to face a dragon and who knows how you are going to survive that! So yes I will keep pushing you out of harm’s way so that you can make it to your home you stubborn dwarf!”

Thorin stared down at the small injured creature that was poking his chest menacingly with each word and for once the King Under the Mountain found himself speechless. Never before had there been someone to protect him. He had always been the protector, the Prince, The King. Shouldering the burdens and responsibilities of his people. To be completely honest he wasn’t quite sure how to act about it. 

“I promised I would try to get you to your home, and I plan to keep that promise.” Bilbo finished softer, his words drifting off to float in the stunned silence that surrounded him. “And you’ll just--- have ---to—“Bilbo swayed on his feet before abruptly collapsing. If Thorin had not been standing close enough to snatch his body out of the air, Bilbo might have woken with a severe concussion on top of all his other injuries. 

As it were Thorin’s reflexes were fast enough to snap out and catch the unconscious hobbit before any further harm could come to him. He laid the hobbit gently down on the ground before he was pushed out of the way by Oin, who had once again shoved his way to the forefront of the crowd of worried dwarves to see to his patient. 

Bilbo’s face was pale and his eyebrows were furrowed as if his expression was stuck in that of extreme worry or pain. 

“Get me a knife!” bellowed Oin, loud enough to wake the dead, but the hobbit in front of him didn’t so much as stir. As soon as the words left his lips, 10 different knives of varying lengths and sharpness were thrust into Oin’s field of vision and he grabbed the nearest one and used it to cut through the buttons of Bilbo’s ruined waistcoat. Without wasting any time he cut through Bilbo’s undershirt as well and exposed the burglar’s chest. 

A shocked gasp arose from the surrounding dwarves as the mottled purple and blue bruises that covered the expanse of Bilbo’s torso were revealed. 

“I suspected as much. Lad’s got a few broken ribs and some internal bleeding. Knew he couldn’t be as fine as he insisted” Oin proceeded to press on certain areas on Bilbo’s front. “Doesn’t look like the bleeding is too severe. Should take care of itself. The ribs on the other hand will need some sort of binding to stabilize. Bofur, you still have a spare shirt in your pack?”

“Aye. Right here it is!” 

“Good” Oin grabbed the shirt and began ripping it into long strips, which he then wound gently around the hobbits torso. For an older Dwarf Oin was surprisingly quick and efficient. 

 Once the bindings were snuggly in place Oin covered Bilbo up as best he could and turned toward the gathered dwarves. “I know we can’t just camp here on the side of the mountain but we need to find a spot to sleep soon enough. And close too. I don’t want our burglar jostled to and fro. The last thing the poor lad needs is a punctured lung.” 

That last thought was directed towards Thorin with a disapproving glare. The Dwarf king nodded once decisively before carefully gathering the once again injured hobbit into his arms. Thorin glanced down at the troubled expression on the hobbits face just as a shiver wracked his injured form. Shifting Bilbo gently in his arms Thorin was just able to reach his shoulder and pull his cloak off to wrap around his burglar. Bilbo unconsciously burrowed further into the warmth and the furrow of his brow softened in slumber. 

“Let’s move. We need to seek shelter and quickly, before more harm comes to our burglar.”

The Dwarves jumped into a flurry of activity as they gathered supplies and packs and set off once again up the side of the mountain. Fili and Kili lead the pack and they were eagerly peering into every nook and cranny of the mountain face in search for a hidden cave. Thorin was near the back, moving slower so as not to jostle the Halfling. Finally after several hours of searching and climbing a suitable cave was found that fit all of the dwarves and camp was made, complete with a small cook fire to both ward off the chill of the mountain air and to cook a hearty stew for the tired adventurers. 

Fili and Kili badgered everyone who would listen for their blankets to create a makeshift bed for Bilbo so as not to further aggravate his injures by lying on cold stone. It turns out that the badgering was not needed as each and every dwarf wordlessly produced their blankets and bedrolls from their packs and gave them to the two princes. A bed was soon created near the back of the cave, close enough for it to still be warm but also far enough away that it would be quieter for the hobbit. 

Thorin laid the Hobbit down gently in the center of the nest made by the princes. He tucked the corners of his cloak in tighter around the small form before pulling back to join the others. He was brought to a pause by the bruised hand that grabbed hold of his shirt and held lightly. Thorin could have easily broken the grasp and went on his way but he didn’t want to cause the hobbit any more harm than he felt he already had. Slowly, so as not to disturb the light grasp Thorin sank into a seated position next to his burglar. 

Bilbo unconsciously burrowed closer to the warmth that the seated dwarf king provided and Thorin heaved a small sigh before once more gathering the exasperating hobbit into his arms and settling him snuggly against his chest. Thorin also grabbed a couple of the blankets and bedrolls from the nest and proceeded to wrap the still chilled hobbit in a few more layers. 

Finally, the Dwarf King and his hobbit were settled, Thorin sitting comfortably with his back against the wall and a Hobbit burrito in his lap, and Bilbo snuggled close with his head pillowed on Thorin’s shoulder, light puffs of breath ghosting across Thorin’s neck with each exhale.

Thorin smiled down slightly at his burglar. “Why must you make it so difficult for me to keep you safe? Stubborn creature.” He mumbled against Bilbo’s curls. 

“Not as stubborn as dwarves.” Came the mumbled reply from somewhere in the blankets. 

“You’re awake” Thorin replied gruffly, quickly trying to gain his usual demeanor after showing some of his soft side that the hobbit wasn’t meant to see. “How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve been crushed by half a mountain.” Stated Bilbo, his voice a bit stronger than it had been before. “In other words not so great.”

Thorin had to chuckle at the sarcasm in his burglars voice. “You’ll mend. Do you want some stew? I think Bomber’s just dished it out.” 

“I’m fine. I’d rather stay here with you. At least for a little while.” Replied Bilbo, his voice returning to a softer almost questioning tone. “If that’s alright….” He trailed off.

“Sleep Halfling. I can watch over you while you heal.”

“Alright then.” Bilbo snuggled back down into the blanket nest he was in in Thorin’s lap. Within minutes he was back asleep.

Thorin waited till he was sure the Hobbit was in deep slumber before responding. “You’ll always have me here to protect you little one. I promise that.” 

Then Thorin settled in to keep vigil over the sleeping hobbit who had once again proven himself and saved Thorin’s life.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for grammar or spelling errors again! I check my stories over at least 3 times if not more, but sometimes things still fall through the cracks!
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you liked it!


	3. Part 3.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 was becoming longer than originally anticipated so I broke it up into 2 (or possibly 3) chunks. I hope you like it. Enjoy! and Merry (belated) Christmas and Happy (belated) NEW YEAR!

It had taken quite an adventure to get here but finally the company found themselves in Laketown, the hopeful rise of the Lonely Mountain a comforting sight compared to the doom and gloom of Mirkwood.

A few days into their stay Thorin asked for Bilbo’s help in retrieving some supplies for the last leg of the journey. They held an easy friendship about them since the rock slide which had only strengthened when Bilbo ran to Thorin’s aid during the battle with Azog. 

So when Thorin asked for his help, Bilbo easily agreed and they were immediately on their way through the streets and alleys of Laketown. The fishy smell of the lake cloying in the air around them. 

It was a surprisingly warm day and the two walked in companionable silence as they stopped along the market stalls here and there to gather what they needed. Most of their supplies were given freely by the people of Laketown, who were energized and excited by the king and his company’s quest. 

Soon the sky was beginning to darken into nights and the two companions had everything they needed crammed into packs that had been given to them by one of the merchants. They were making their way back to the inn where the rest of the company was when they turned down a darker alley and were suddenly attacked. 

One minute Bilbo was walking next to Thorin, chatting amiably about this and that and the next he was grabbed by the hair and thrown to the ground with a surprised cry. 

“Bilbo!” Shouted Thorin as a black clad figure rushed him from a darkened corner of the alley, dagger raised to strike. Thorin drew his sword in a smooth stroke, blocking the dagger strike and stumbling back from the second dagger that was aimed for his stomach. He was put on the defensive as the figure hurled two daggers at his head and followed it up with another downward strike. Thorin ducked under the flying daggers and just barely brought his sword up in time to block the second attack. 

While Thorin battled one attacker, Bilbo was struggling against the other smaller figure that had thrown him to the ground. He managed to roll out from under his attacker just as they pulled a knife and were stabbing downwards in what would have been a killing blow. The edge of the blade barely missing his neck. Bilbo stumbled to his feet and drew Sting, gripping the hilt with both hands to steady the blade. 

Quick as lightning the smaller of the attackers raced towards Bilbo a knife in each hand. Bilbo reacted on pure adrenaline and drew Sting upwards to knock one often knives out of the attacker’s hand, but the forward momentum from the attack threw both of them once again to the ground, knocking Sting out of Bilbo’s reach. The attacker used the momentum of their fall to position the knife into a downward stab, placing all of their weight behind it.

 Bilbo shifted suddenly just enough so that the knife missed his heart and instead sliced through his shirt sleeve, barely missed his skin. Bilbo, still reacting purely on instinct, brought his arm up and slammed his elbow into his attacker’s temple hard enough to force his opponents head to side. His attacker lost their grip on the dagger and was knocked off balance from the hit. Without thought Bilbo grabbed the dagger and thrust it into his opponent’s side as they fell to the side from the blow to the head.  

Meanwhile Thorin deflected blow after blow from his opponent. Every pause in the battle was a chance for attack. Still on the defense Thorin stumbled as his opponent threw one knife and drew another quickly in a side swipe. Thorin fell backwards as the thrown dagger flew above him, a hairsbreadth away from his face.  He hit the ground hard, gasping as the air was knocked from his lungs, and stunned as his head slammed against the ground, the grip on his sword releasing on impact.  

Time slowed for Thorin as the world narrowed to the downward strike of his attacker’s dagger. Suddenly there was a flurry of activity and Bilbo appeared in Thorin’s line of vision, slamming into his attacker’s side and effectively knocking his dagger off course. Bilbo and the black-clad man landed hard in a tangle of limbs and flashing steel. Thorin scrambled to his feet as Bilbo cried out and was thrown off of the attacker, landing with a heart-stopping thud on the ground. 

Thorin was torn between running to check on Bilbo or attempting to finishing the fight. His decision was made for him as the attacker leap to his feet and ran to gather his injured companion onto his back before fleeing quickly back down the alley. Thorin spared only a moment to make sure they were in fact gone before racing to Bilbo’s side, praying to all the Gods that his burglar still lived. 

“Bilbo!” Thorin cried as he threw himself down on his knees next to the hobbits prone form, reaching out a shaky hand to roughly pull the hobbit over. Bilbo lay on his back with his eyes clenched shut in what looked to Thorin to be a pained expression. 

“Are you hurt, Halfling? Where is the wound? Tell me!” Thorin demanded frantically. 

At the sound of Thorin’s panicked speech, Bilbo managed to unclench his eyes from the throbbing pain that echoed around the inside of his skull. 

“I’m fine, Thorin. Just a bump on the head and a headache. I promise. Now please stop shouting.” Bilbo explained as the pain in his head forced his eyes to clench shut once more. 

Thorin stared at the hobbit for a moment before nodding, an action that was lost to the closed eyes of the hobbit, before gently continuing to search his Hobbit for signs of injury. His eyes lock on a line of blood appearing from beneath Bilbo’s tunic on his upper arm. 

“You are injured, Halfling!” Thorin scolded as his examined the cut. It was about 3 inches in length and only deep enough that it was still sluggishly bleeding but not enough to be considered a serious injury. Without pause Thorin grabbed the bottom of his overly large tunic, a garment that had been provided by the men of Laketown until their own clothes were finished being cleaned, and ripped a thick strip off the bottom edge. He used the cloth to tightly bind Bilbo’s cut before continuing to search his hobbit for further injury. 

“Why must you insist on putting yourself continually in harm’s way for me, you cursed Halfling! This is the fourth time that you have done so during the span of this journey and I do not like your continual injury at my expense!” 

“Thorin, please! Lower your voice. My head is pounding and you are not helping! A stop your scolding you old mothering Dwarf! I told you before, I intend for you to make it to the Lonely Mountain in one piece if I have any say in the matter!” 

Thorin grumbled at the insinuation that he was a mother hen, before gently examining Bilbo’s head for other injuries. On the back of the hobbits head lay a rather large goose egg that was sure to be the cause of the headache Bilbo was complaining about. 

“Can you stand?” Grumbled Thorin, slight worry still gleaming in his eyes. 

“Help me up” Said Bilbo thrusting a hand in the Dwarf King’s direction for help. 

Together they manage to get the disoriented Hobbit to his feet and keep him there with some steadying. “Why were we attacked? And where did they go?” questioned Bilbo once he had righted himself. 

“They were most likely thieves. The spineless cowards ran off once they saw we were putting up a fight. Come, we should continue on to the inn, I would like for Oin to look at that bump on your head.” 

Bilbo frowned at Thorin’s statements. The attack hadn’t felt like a robbing, but more like an assassination attack. It had felt personal. He shook his head once as if to clear it of the negative thoughts before starting after Thorin who was gathering their discarded packs. ‘ _One things for sure’_ Thought Bilbo with trepidation ’ _I need to get Thorin back with the company so that they may keep him safe.’_

The duo cautiously continued on their way, sticking more to the main streets where people were still milling about, rather than the smaller back alleys they had been taking as shortcuts.

One of the streets they turned down only a few blocks from the inn had what appeared to be a night festival taking place. There were a multitude of brightly colored stalls sprawled along the street, each selling different wares and food to the festival goers. There was a small street performance taking place at one end of the street, where Fire breathers blew burning spirals into the night air amid the applause of spectators and the shrieks of awestruck children. 

Thorin spared a glance for his companion as they walked the festival street. Bilbo’s curls were lit up by the glow of the festival lights. His eyes crinkled into laughter as his mouth crept up into a smile at the delighted screams of the children. 

‘ _What am I going to do with you Halfing .You keep putting yourself in danger at my expense and it has led to your injury on many occasions. I cannot have you die. I won’t allow it.’_ Thorin’s chest ached at the thought of Bilbo lying cold and still on the ground. Smiles never to grace his face again, his laughter forever silenced by death. The King’s breath hitched at the thought. ‘ _You will not die for me, Bilbo. You are much too important to the company. You are much too important to me.’_

Thorin mentally paused at that last thought. It should have been obvious to him, really. He cared for the hobbit. The very thought of his death sent Thorin’s mind reeling and his chest expanding with worry, fear, and anguish. ‘ _I am a fool for ever despising him. He proven himself again and again to me, and I have come to cherish him in such a short time. I must keep him safe, keep him alive._

Thorin smiles gently at Bilbo as he watched his burglar smile at the antics of the fire breathers. AS Thorin watches Bilbo’s smile suddenly fades and is replaced with a pained look. Thorin glanced around harshly for the person or thing that had upset the hobbit.  

Thorin turned to scan the area and as he turned back towards Bilbo he saw the hobbit falter, then stumble and almost fall as if he were drunk. “Bilbo?” Thorin reached out to steady the hobbit but ended up catching him instead as his form slumped to the ground. Bilbo’s breath was coming in quick, short gasps as if he had been running and couldn’t catch his breath.

“Bilbo!”  

The hobbit was weak in his arms, struggling to return to his feet. Thorin deftly flipped him over in the dwarf kings hold. Bilbo’s face was ashen and clammy, his breath still coming in uneven gasps. The worst thing though, were his eyes, staring wide with fear up at Thorin. “What is wrong?” cried Thorin, desperate to wipe the look of fear off his halfings face. “Bilbo? Tell me what’s wrong!” 

Bilbo shuddered once, still staring up into Thorin’s eyes fearfully before his labored breathing got the best of him and he passed out. 

Thorin tightened his grip on the now dead weight that was his hobbit. What could possibly be wrong? Bilbo had no injury that he could see and there was nothing to suggest magic. But wait…the cut! The one from the thieves earlier that had to be it. Thorin shifted Bilbo’s weight to one arm in order to pull away the makeshift binding on the burglars arm. The wound was raw and harsh, an angry red slash against the normal paleness of the Hobbit’s arm. What was worse though was the fact that the center of the cut was oozing a noxious green pus that was mixing with the blood that still flowed freely. 

_‘Poison! I should have known those scum would use something so cowardly and underhanded’_ snarled Thorin mentally. _‘I must get him to the inn. Quickly’_

He did not gather the hobbit into his arms but instead threw him up into the Dwarf kings embrace and against his chest as he raced to the inn where the rest of the company was located. 

“Oin!” Thorin shouted as he burst through the door, sparing a frantic glance around the inns common room in search of the healer. “Dwalin! Find Oin!” He then turned and sprinted up the stairs to the room he was currently claiming as his own.

He gently laid the now shivering Hobbit in the center of the bed. Bilbo’s slight frame was burning up with fever and quaking with chills at the same time. His skin was pale and waxy and his eyes appeared sunken and ill. The slash on his upper arm was still oozing green puss and was now almost translucent, enough to show the starkness of the hobbits veins against his skin.                                                                    

Thorin gently framed Bilbo’s face with his hands “Bilbo. Can you hear me?”

Nothing. 

“Bilbo.” Said Thorin, his quiet tone desperate in the oppressive silence of the room. Thorin stroked his thumbs down the Halfling’s cheeks. “Bilbo. I need you to wake. Can you do that for me?”

Finally, there was some movement as Bilbo’s eyes fluttered open. Blinking once, twice, before staring up at Thorin. His gaze was strange, with a foggy sheen covering his eyes. Bilbo’s gaze was milky and unseeing as if he were blind. 

“Bilbo?”

“Thorin? Thorin! Where- are you? I can’t- find- you.” Bilbo’s voice was frantic and panicked, his words falling from his lips in short bursts in between shallow pants for air. 

“Bilbo! Calm down! I’m right here.” Thorin said, his voice somehow remaining calm and even while his mind was racing with fears. He stroked his thumbs down the hobbits cheeks once more to assure Bilbo of his presence. 

“What’s happening? Why can’t I see you? Thorin! Why can’t I see you?” The hobbit was growing more and more frantic with every passing second. His breath was coming quicker and shallower and the veins that showed through his next to translucent skin were pulsing with his increasing heart rate. Thorin had to calm Bilbo down. 

Without a thought otherwise Thorin lightly tightened his grip on Bilbo’s face before leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on his lips, abruptly silencing the hobbits cries. 

“Peace, Hobbit. You must calm, otherwise I fear you will quicken your illness.”

“Thorin-” Bilbo breathed out, shallower than Thorin would have liked but at least slower. 

Before either of the two could say another word the room burst into a flurry of activity as Dwalin threw open the door, hauling a questioning Oin behind him, closely followed by a worried Kili and Fili.

“What’s happened this time.” Demanded Oin his tone disgruntled but focused. 

“We were attacked. They were of little challenge to fight off and they left us with only scratches and bumps. The most severe of which is on Bilbo’s arm there.” Thorin had backed away from the bed when the others had entered, and he pointed to the wound as he spoke. “I thought he was fine. Until a little while after he stumbled and his skin became hot to the touch. The wound is dripping green and I fear that he has been poisoned. I brought him to you as quickly as I was able. Now his breath is labored and his eyes are milky. It all happened very fast” As Thorin spoke Oin was checking all of the symptoms he had stated. 

Just as Oin bent to peel back the blood soaked rag that still lay across Bilbo’s wounded arm, the hobbit let out a piercing scream of pain and began to thrash about on the bed. “IT BURNS! OH GODS IT BURNS! THORIN! MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP!” The last part of the hobbits cries dropped off into body wrenching sobs as he scratched at his skin as if to rip away whatever ailed him. 

Thorin ran to the bed to hold Bilbo’s arms once he saw the hobbit leaving bloody scratches where his nails bit into his skin. “Bilbo! What has happened!?” the last part of the sentence was directed at Oin who was working frantically to hold down the flailing hobbit and check his wounds. “Dwalin! Come hold him down! Quickly, lad.” Shouted Oin above the screams and sobs of his patient. 

With the help of both Thorin and Dwalin holding Bilbo down, Oin was finally able to get a good look at the wound. 

“This is not good lads. Fili! Fetch me a bucket of the coldest water you can and one of the hottest. and a rag! Kili you follow him and bring me my pack. Be quick. We haven’t much time. GO!” 

“Who did this?” this time Oin’s comment was directed at Thorin, who was quietly whispering things to distract Bilbo from the pain. His screams had died down to pained whimpers and cries, as Thorin lightly gripped his wrists which were pinned to his chest. 

“I don’t know. They attacked us in a side street. Two of them. They wore dark clothing and the night shadows hid their faces well.”

After a moment Fili and Kili burst back into the room, panting harshly, with the requested items in tow. Oin ordered Dwalin and Thorin to hold Bilbo down tightly as he washed out the wound with the hot water, making sure to scrape as much of the infection out as he could. The whole process was rather terrible for poor Bilbo as he was left to scream and cry out in pain at the ministrations of the other, until it turned out to be too much for his mind and he thankfully passed out.  Eventually Oin had the wound cleaned and a thick herbal paste was spread onto it before he bound it up loosely once more. 

With that done he pulled Thorin out of the room and left Fili and Kili in charge of watching the hobbit and helping him cool down the fires beneath his skin by running the cold cloths down his arms and chest. 

“I’m afraid there’s only so much I can do for him unless I know what poison they used.” Said Oin quietly once they were out of Bilbo’s earshot “He is quickly worsening. I don’t know if he’ll last the night, unless we can figure out which poison it is.”

“We _will_ find it. He _will_ survive. I swear it.” Thorin promised, rage and worry battling for dominance behind his gaze. “He has to survive.” 


	4. Part 3.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last part of the Lake Town Adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! All I can say is I am a horrible procrastinator. Also this is a beast of a chapter. But Please Enjoy!   
> I hope it lives up to your expectations!

Without even a moment’s pause Ori, who had been standing in the doorway as soon as he had heard Bilbo’s scream, raced off to find his brother. Nori appeared in the doorway a few moments later with his younger brother and didn’t even seem surprised by the commotion he saw there.

Thorin noticed the thief in the doorway and gestured for him to join the dwarf king in the corner of the room where Thorin had been conversing in hushed tones with Dwalin.

“I need your help” Thorin told Nori in hushed tones so as not to wake the finally unconscious hobbit. He quickly filled the thief in on what had happened in the market.

Nori remained calm and collected through most of the story but Thorin noticed a hardness growing in his eyes and a small frown that twisted into a full blown snarl as Thorin told him of the hobbit’s symptoms. Nori stalked quietly over to the edge of the hobbit’s bed in order to not wake him and began making his own analysis of the symptoms. Once done he gestured for Thorin to follow him out of the room.

Thorin looked to Dwalin in a silent plea to stay with Bilbo, to which Dwalin silently agreed with an inclination of his head.

In the hall, Nori gave Thorin a brief summary of what he had found.

“It’s not any poison I know, but some of the symptoms are related to Nightmare’s burn, a common poison used in assassinations. We need to act fast if we are to save him. Most Assassins who know their trade well will carry the antidote on their persons in case of accidents. We need to find the two who attacked you.”

Thorin nodded his head. “How much time do we have?” he asked, not truly desiring the answer but needing to ask all the same.

“No more than a night. The effects of the poison are meant to act fast.”

Thorin’s breath caught in his chest at the answer. There was a moment of silence before a furious need began to boil within Thorin’s gut, driving his heartbeat up and his thoughts into a frenzy. The need to go, to do something and not just let his hobbit die, the need to kill raged through his very being.

“We have no more time to waste.”

Nori nodded before slipping out of the room and returning moments later with a small bag Thorin had never seen before, in hand. He gestured for Thorin to proceed him into The Dwarf king’s room before closing the door and starting to pull things from the bag.

A neatly folded pile of black cloth came first, then a pair of soft leather boots, followed shortly by several daggers, a small pile of thin, oddly shaped metal pieces on a ring, a coil of rope, a small leather box held closed with a silver buckle and a short hollow tube made of intricately carved steel.

Nori sorted through the clothes before handing a pile to Thorin and keeping a pile for himself. Nori also handed Thorin a small piece of leather “It’s for your hair.” Thorin frowned and looked back at the thief “Trust me. You won’t want your hair in the way if we have to fight in close quarters or get creative with our sneaking.” Thorin nodded once in acknowledgement. Nori left him to change.

The pile of black cloth consisted of a black tunic and pants, two black vambraces and what looked to be black leg guards, and a pair of soft black leather boots. Thorin quickly shed his own clothes and replaced them with the things he had been given.

When Nori returned he was also clothed in all black with a leather belt around his waist holding several daggers and a belt going over one shoulder and across his chest which appeared to hold several finger length pointed needles and the thin metal tube. He gave Thorin a once over before nodding his approval and handing the dwarf king  black leather scabbard and belt like the one he wore around his own chest.

“I thought you’d want Orcrist. Strap it to your back and keep it tight. We can afford to be slowed down by bulky items.”

Thorin took the scabbard and the belt and placed Orcrist inside before strapping the entire thing around himself and pulling it tight.

“Your majesty, it’s now time to say your goodbyes.” Nori spoke softly “We must go.”

Thorin nodded and left the room without another word, silently opening the door and stepping back into Bilbo’s room.

Dwalin looked up from his seated position in the only chair in the room which he had dragged to the side of Bilbo’s bed not currently occupied by Oin who was bathing the hobbit’s forehead with a cool rag. The room itself was hot to the point of being uncomfortable with the fire in the corner of the room blazing.

Thorin did not notice the look of surprise that Dwalin gave at his appearance, too absorbed with the fragile being on the bed. He crossed the room in three strides. Bilbo looked even smaller and frailer than he had when Thorin had left the room less than an hour ago. Thorin’s fear solidified into a small writhing thing, slipping and sliding along his insides and pooling low in his gut at the sight.

Leaning down slowly and carefully so as not to wake Bilbo, he bent till his face was right next to the hobbit’s ear, with one hand carding gently through his sweat-damp bangs.  “Hold on, Bilbo. I’ll be back soon. Please stay alive till then, my love. We have so many things to discuss.” Bilbo pulled back to look at the hobbit’s face reluctantly before leaning down and pressing a kiss on his brow.

Taking a minute to gather his wits and with one last glance Thorin turned and walked from the room, refusing to allow himself to look back as if this was the last time he would see his hobbit. He met Nori in the hall and followed him into the night.

Thorin had never had to sneak about in the ways they did that night. Being a prince never had required much sneaking about after all and the escape from the mountain had required even less silence. To that end Thorin would admit, if pressed, that he was very grudgingly impressed by Nori’s skills.

The dwarf seemed to be made of the very shadows they found themselves surrounded by. The normal clomping and stomping that heralded the arrival of a dwarf was not present when Nori moved. He was like liquid, silently flowing through cracks and crannies. He flitted from shadow to shadow on silent feet on their way to the meeting place. Thorin was not nearly as quiet or as quick.

Eventually Thorin was forced to choose between silence and speed, and since time was of the essence he threw away all notions of stealth. The soft boots that Nori had given him helped immensely compared to the normal metal tipped one he usually wore but they were by no means perfect.

The dwarves were headed for the docks where Nori had sent word to be met. When asked, Nori had merely thrown a smirk over his shoulder and stated that “Three days is more than enough time to set up a network.” To be honest Thorin was surprised by the thief’s quick thinking and was even more grateful for his ability to always get information no matter where he found himself.

The docks were eerily silent, nothing but the sound of gentle waves lapping against the dock posts. As Thorin followed Nori they approached a darkened corner of the wharf, the corner of a small shack taking shape in the darkness as Thorin’s eyes adjusted. During their approach the shadows shifted as a tall spindly shadow separated from the shadow of the building.

It was a man, thin and spiderlike, with long legs and thin oily hair that hung limply around his angular face. Thorin would loath to admit he was surprised by then man’s sudden appearance and his unease grew as the man turned his head their way and his face split into a  wide smile that held too many teeth to look natural. Thorin stiffened and had to mentally stop the shiver that wanted to roll down his spine.

Nori stopped about two feet away from the man and nodded in acknowledgement in his direction. “Webs won’t weave themselves.”

“A spider must work for his food” Replied the man his grin growing impossibly wider “Welcome my new friends, what may I do for yourselves?”

The man’s words seemed to drip from his lips, thick and oily, making Thorin mentally cringe.

“Araneae, what whispers exist of an attack in the market? Two would be assassins, human.”

The man paused and crooked his head, one bony hand running through his hair. “There is talk of a hobbit being attacked. One that walks with a Dwarf King.” He shifted his gaze to Thorin and bent his body into a crooked bow. “Your majesty”

Thorin inclined his head in a terse nod of acknowledgement.

“Where are these attackers?” prompted Nori, drawing Araneae’s attention away from Thorin.

“Now, now little fly. Do you have something to give in return? A Spider must work for his food.”

Nori looked to Thorin, as if weighing his options. Seeming to reach a conclusion, Nori turned back to the man.

“How much is this answer worth little fly?” Araneae’s eyes seemed to glint in the shadows.

Nori reached under his left vambraces and pulled free a very thin slip of paper, folded twice.

Araneae’s eyes shifted and his smile fell at the sight of the paper. “Is that what I think it is?”

“A day’s ride east from Laketown there lies a small inn. Knock twice on the door, then open it. Inside you will find an old man sitting in a chair by the fire. Tell him the words on the page and he will give you a choice. Do with it as you will.” Said Nori holding the paper out to Araneae, who was staring at the paper greedily. He tried to take the paper but Nori pulled away before he could grab it. “First our answer.”

Aracheae blinked as if to clear his thoughts “Top floor of Old May’s Inn. Window farthest to the north. Two humans, one male the other female. Be wary of the female. She holds the power of the two.”

Nori nodded his thanks and handed the man the slip of paper with a final warning. “Memorize the words then destroy the paper. Elsewise it will destroy you.”

Aracheae snatched the paper and it disappeared down his sleeve in one smooth motion. “You better hurry. Poison acts fast in a small body.” The smile was back in full force, teeth sharp and long in the dark before the man slipped back into the shadows and vanished.

Thorin looked to Nori. “What did you give him?”

Nori looked at the Dwarf king. “Something’s are better unknown, my King. There are places and things in this world not meant to found. Things that will offer you everything and then eat you alive. It’s best you forget this ever happened. Now we must finish this in all haste. He did not lie about there being not much time.”

Thorin frowned but accepted the answer, messing with dark things never ends well. And they already have more trouble on this quest than they would ever need.

The two set off once more into the darkness of the night. Nori pushing their pace faster than before as he wove his way smoothly from street to street.

They finally stopped at an Inn, a large, bulbous sign hanging from above the door featuring a large breasted woman holding a pie in one hand and a huge stein of ale in the other. The smaller painted sign below proclaiming this to be Old May’s Inn. Thorin followed Nori as his crept around the inn until they had a clear view of the uppermost Northern window.

The building next to Inn seemed to have been built entirely too close to the Inn and its roof happened to be just below the window they needed. Nori climbed from window sill to window sill until he pulled himself onto the roof and crept over to the window as Thorin kept watch from the street below. After getting a good look at the layout of the roof and window he gestured to Thorin to follow, which the Dwarf king did at a much slower and less graceful pace.

Thorin’s adrenaline was increasing with each passing second as they crouched on the roof and peered carefully through the glass of the window panes. Too much time was passing. They had to get back to Bilbo, Now!

Nori, as if sensing his king’s thought’s gestured to Thorin to stay before he crawled to the window sill on his stomach until he was peering directly into the room. He was still for several minutes while Thorin mentally weighed the pros and cons of just bursting through the window with sword drawn.

He was interrupted from his thoughts by Nori’s return and his gesture to back away to the furthest point on the roof from the window.

“They are both there. The male is sitting in a chair by the fireplace to the left of the window cleaning his blades. The female is to the right inside the window lounging on the bed. They are speaking but it is not in a language I recognize. Our best plan might be to just attack and hope the element of surprise is enough, your majesty.”

Thorin slide Orcrist from his back scabbard with a soft _shnick_. “Then let’s not waste any more time.”

Nori nodded before pulling out two knives, gripping them tightly. A wicked looking smile stretched across his face. “Let’s not wait then, our burglar needs us.”

They both crept back to the window and each took position on a side. With a nod of approval from Thorin, Nori reached over and used his blade to flick the latch on the window and without a moment’s pause he threw himself through the window, followed immediately by Thorin.

 As soon as he was through the window, Nori threw one of his daggers at the man by the fire who deflected with the sword he had been cleaning, but the blade had served its distraction purpose and the next thing the man saw was an angry dwarf flying at him at tackling him out of the chair.

The man landed with a hard _thud_ but quickly rolled out of the path of the following dagger, which embedded itself deep within the wood of the floor. Nori left it and grabbed one of his needles from his chest and flicked it deftly at the man who had rolled to his feet. The needle grazed the man’s cheek before embedding in the wood of the window sill. The Man laughed as he absentmindedly whipped at the scratch with the back of his hand, eyes never once leaving Nori’s.

Meanwhile Thorin had erupted from the window and thrown himself towards the bed where the female lay. Before he reached his goal, the girl rolled to the other side of the bed and onto the ground, grabbing her sword from where it lay on the floor near the bed.

She growled and unsheathed it, tossing the scabbard behind her where it hit the wall with a clatter.

Thorin found himself taking up a defensive position as she snarled something that sounded like a rather unpleasant curse word as she stalked towards him. She threw herself at him with an over the head strike which Thorin blocked and used her moment against her to throw her off to the side and on to the ground.

He took one step towards her before she was up and attacking again. This time they exchanged several blows before he was able to push her back.

“Give it to me!” Thorin snarled rage and fear flooding his veins and making his vision go red. He slashed at her shoulder which she caught with her own sword and deflected. She smirked at him before spitting several more foreign words at him.

Enraged he charged her, striking again and again at her sudden defense.

Nori and the man were also engaged in a one on one struggle at this point with the man having the obvious size advantage. But many a man had underestimated Nori’s speed and agility when faced with his size and the thief was not about to lose with so much at stake. He parried every thrust of the man’s sword with his daggers, thrusting the tip of the sword away from his body with each attack.

Seeing his opening he threw one of his daggers wildly at the man’s face which the man dodged easily with a loud scoff. But the dagger had done its job to buy Nori a distraction and he rolled away from the man while fishing the thin tube from where it sat against his chest. He loaded the first needle and blew, shooting it straight into the male’s left eye.

The man let out a yowl and immediately pulled out the offending object, clutching his eye with one hand as blood pooled from between his fingers. Nori wasted no time in loading a second needle and blowing but this time the man dodged it.

Nori swore under his breath as he fumbled with the next needle but the man had pulled a glass vile filled with blue liquid from his waist pouch which he threw in Nori’s direction.

 The vile hit the floor and exploded, throwing Nori against the back wall, knocking the wind out of his lungs and the sight out of his eyes. He slide down the wall to the floor and sat there gasping for air with lungs that were refusing to cooperate. 

Thorin saw the explosion and Nori hit the wall from his own battle and he lost his advantage with the pause. He shouted Nori’s name and was thrown to the ground with the female on top of him minutes later.

She followed him down, throwing all of her weight behind her dagger she’d drawn from her belt thrusting it towards his neck, but Thorin twisted as they fell and her dagger missed and became embedded in the floor. She changed tactics and released the dagger in favor of pressing her forearm tightly to his throat, closing off the air supply.

Laughing she pressed down harder as Thorin tried to throw her off. “How’s that lovely hobbit of your’s doing, your majesty?” She taunted the choking king, “Is he dead yet?” She reached her free arm behind her back and slid a small vile of light green liquid into view. “Too bad you couldn’t save him.” She held the vile in front of his eyes as his vision began to darken. She laughed triumphantly as she pressed her entire weight down on Thorin’s throat.

Suddenly there was a loud crash to their left and the woman’s head jerked up and the pressure on Thorin’s throat eased. She shouted something in her language that sounded like a name. Thorin used her distraction to change the score and he used what was left of his strength to knock her arm away and roll her under him.

During the short struggle, the bottle of antidote fell from the woman’s hand and hit the ground with a sharp _clink_. Both Thorin and the female rolled apart, eyes darting to where the vile of antidote lay.

Seeing his chance, Nori slid from where his opponent lay unconscious and snatched up the bottle, throwing it to Thorin in one swift motion as he threw himself at the woman.

“Go!” Nori barked, as he took up Thorin’s fight with the female “Save Bilbo!”

Thorin didn’t have to be told twice. He caught the bottle in one hand and raced out the door. If what the woman had said was true then they may be already too late.

* * *

 

Bilbo was floating. Rising higher and higher above the flames. Leaving behind the pain and fear. He felt good, light. No longer burning and screaming till his voice felt rubbed raw.

‘ _I could float forever and be happy_ ’ he thought fondly. But there was still a small niggling sensation in the back of his consciousness. There was something wrong with this reality. Bilbo was sure he was supposed to be worried about something. Or that something was missing. Or both.

He mentally furrowed his brow as he tried to remember what had been so important. Why had he been on fire? When had the adventure gone so horribly wrong?

It was his next thought that gave him pause. _Where is 'Thorin?'_

_'Why isn’t he here? Where did he go? Why would he leave?'_ Bilbo became more and more frantic with each passing thought. If someone had asked Bilbo at that moment why Thorin was so important, it is unclear whether he would have had an answer. All he knew was he _needed_ Thorin. Thorin would make everything better.

So Bilbo struggled. He struggled against the fog that was blocking his sight and making his thoughts hazy.

Slowly but surely he began to fall. At first just a gentle descent but then he started gaining speed in his fall until he was plummeting to the Earth at a frightening speed. He was nothing but a brilliant light screaming back towards the ground and slamming forcefully back into his body. Right back into the fire and screams and pain.

Bilbo threw open his eyes and let out a soul-wrenching scream of pure pain.                                      

* * *

 

Thorin had just entered the room and was standing by the hobbit’s bedside, making sure he was still truly alive with each rise and fall of his chest. Just as Thorin was about to leave to get Oin, Bilbo’s eyes suddenly snapped wide and he let out one of the most horrifying sounds Thorin had ever heard. A scream so awful it was sure to haunt Thorin’s nightmare more than Azog ever had.

Thorin flew back to the bed and grasped the Halfling’s shoulders to hold him down to the bed and to stop the frenzied tearing of skin the hobbit was trying to inflict upon himself. Each time nails met skin a bloody furrow was left behind as if Bilbo was trying to tear his very flesh apart.

“Bilbo” shouted Thorin over his screams “Be still so we can help you!”

But Bilbo continued to fight and Thorin was forced to release his grip so that he could hand the antidote over to Oin. As soon as it was safely in Oin’s grasp, Thorin threw himself on top of Bilbo, Straddling his hips to keep the Hobbit’s legs from flailing. He then grabbed Bilbo’s hands and forcibly pried them away from where he was trying to peel the very flesh from his chest. Thorin restrained Bilbo by pressing both of his hands against the mattress on either side of his head.

This brought Thorin face to face with his ailing hobbit. Thorin’s vision was filled with the bloodshot eyes and frantic expression of his hobbit caught in a terrifying feverish nightmare.

As Thorin held his patient steady, Oin un-corked the bottle and poured the light green liquid down Bilbo’s throat with a deftness that spoke of years of training. The liquid found its way down Bilbo’s throat, halting the screams and replacing them with a harsh, wet coughing sound as Bilbo swallowed roughly.

There were several heartbeats of absolute stunning silence as both Oin and Thorin waited for any sign of reaction. Thorin’s heart shattered the very moment Bilbo’s eyes clouded and then fell closed as a huge shuddering gasp left his body.

Thorin stared down at his hobbit, all thoughts of Oin forgotten as he leaned forward, disbelieving. He let go of the hobbits wrist to hover a hand over Bilbo’s heart, feeling for movement, over his mouth to feel for breath.

“No” He exhaled, body growing numb as his search became frantic “NO!”

He grabbed Bilbo’s shoulders and gave them a rough shake, trying to wake Bilbo up from the sudden sleep he had fallen into. With each harsh jerk of his arms Bilbo’s head lulled back and forth on loose muscles and tendons, completely limp.

“Bilbo…” Thorin whispered quietly. He cradled the hobbit to his chest for a moment before gently placing him back on the bed.

He leaned closer to Bilbo’s face, bringing his lips right next to one delicate pointed ear.

“Bilbo” he whispered brokenly, “Wake up. Come back to me, my hobbit. I need you here with me.” He choked back a harsh sob as he continued his whisperings “Come back love, I need you. Please Bilbo. Please love, come back now. Open your eyes. Please.”

Thorin continued to beg, his pleas falling on silent ears.

 Suddenly fury boiled through his veins, a white hot rage that erupted from his soul outward at this injustice. He threw himself back and bellowed at the ceiling “Mahal, you cannot have him! He is not yours to take. Bring him back now! Please give him back. I need him. I need you my love”

He turned his attention back to the prone form of his hobbit to continue his frantic whispers into a single ear, which eventually dissolved into a frantic chant of “please” as tears began to fall from his eyes to the pillows below.

He was so occupied with his grief that he failed to notice the quiet intake of breath in the hobbit beneath him. That is until the silence of the room was broken by one quiet, tired sound.

“Tho-rin”

The Dwarf king whipped his head up at the cracked sound of his name. He stared in shock at the beautiful green color of eyes that were open and staring up at him. Truth be told the hobbit was barely awake and still very pale, but the veins were once more beginning to fade back into his skin. His face and eyelids sagged with exhaustion and he was obviously struggling to stay awake, but to Thorin he was the most beautiful sight the king had ever seen.

“Bilbo” Thorin whispered, as if afraid any loud noise would break this vision and he would once again be alone in the room with the corpse of his beloved. Carefully and ever so gently he bent forward and gathered the frail body of his hobbit into his arms and shifted their positions until he was sitting up against the headboard of the bed, cradling Bilbo in his arms.

“Bilbo” Thorin sighed against the hobbit’s curls, before pressing a gentle kiss there. Thorin could not believe it. His hobbit was alive, and seemingly ok. “You’re alive. Thank Mahal, you’re safe.”

Bilbo, too exhausted to reply, just reached a hand to weakly grasp at Thorin’s tunic. Thorin place his own hand over Bilbo’s and gently pulled it away from his tunic and back down into Bilbo’s lap, keeping it clasped within his own. “Rest, Bilbo. Heal. I will be here when you wake.” Thorin quietly reassure the hobbit.

Needing no further prompting Bilbo’s eyes fell shut and his breath deepened almost instantly as he gave in to exhaustion.

Almost immediately, Thorin stiffened and directed his gaze to Oin, who had been previously forgotten. “Oin, send Fili and Kili to help Nori. I left him with the assassins to get to Bilbo in time. I should have sent someone sooner-”

“Now no need to get your loin cloth in a bunch, your Majesty” joked Nori dryly from the doorway “Nice to know I wasn’t forgotten.”

He was standing in the doorway with Dwalin, looking no worse for wear except for the fact that he was leaning heavily against the other dwarf while trying to pretend he wasn’t.

“Are you injured?” Questioned Thorin, all kingly authority now that he was faced with the rest of his company and not just his hobbit.

“Nothing a hot meal and a good night’s sleep won’t fix. Not to worry. And no need to be worrying about the assassins either. They won’t be bothering anyone for a long time, if ever.” Nori finished with an evil smirk, no less threatening even though he could barely stand.

Thorin gave a sharp nod and turned his attention to his second in command expecting a more complete explanation.

“I saw you come flying through the inn without Nori and figured he might need help. Found the idiot by heading to the only building on fire in the entire town and interrupted his fight with the girl. She threw a blade that caught him in the leg and he went down. Good thing I was there too, else you wouldn’t be talking to the cocky bastard now. Dwalin finished with a nod in Nori’s direction.

“I had it under control!” Protested Nori before turning his attention towards the sleeping hobbit. “Is he alive?”

Thorin looked down at his lapful of Hobbit and took a moment to revel in the fact that he was alive. “Aye, He’ll live.”

“And just who are you to make that assumption, Laddie?” Interrupted Oin impatiently from the opposite side of the bed. “Now if you all are done with yer fussin’. Dwalin, get Nori cleaned up and into a bed. I’ll be over in a bit to take a look at that leg. Nori” Oin said addressing the thief “I expect no protests out of ye. Yer dead on yer feet and I’ll not have another poisoned patient running around thinkin’ he’s well.”

Both Dwarves nodded, before Nori looped an arm over Dwalin’s broad shoulder, and used him as a crutch to hobble out of the room. Surprisingly Dwain said nothing about it, but instead wrapped an arm around the thief’s waist to keep him steady and take more of his weight off of his injured leg.

“Now Thorin” Said Oin turning his attention back to the bed “Are ye going to let me look over my patient or am I going to have to remove ye?”

For a moment Thorin’s mood turned dark. ‘ _I’d like to see him try_ ’ he thought, before mentally chastising himself. Oin was only doing his job. Wearily Thorin nodded his head before gently shifting Bilbo so that it was easier for Oin to look him over.

The healer puttered about for a minute, checking Bilbo’s heartbeat, and pupils. Taking note of the deep scratches the Hobbit had inflicted upon himself in his fevered state. Oin cleaned and bandaged the more severe and tried to get some liquid down Bilbo’s throat with Thorin’s help before finally leaving the two alone with strict orders to rest.

Thorin offered no protests. The adrenaline and fear from the night had left his body, leaving behind bone deep exhaustion in its place.  

After moving Bilbo to a more comfortable sleeping position on the bed, and climbing off the bed himself to remove his boots and other items not necessary for sleep, he once more settled down with his arms around Bilbo, drawing the hobbit close to his chest. Pressing one last kiss to the top of Bilbo’s curls, Thorin was soon following his hobbit into the depths of sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any grammar/ spelling mistakes. I'm a really lazy editor. 
> 
> Also there will be one more chapter. A sort of Epilogue with feelings and shit. I was going to tack it on to the end of this chapter but the chapter was already extremely long and I wanted to post it. 
> 
> Hope you liked it! =)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote Part 1 of this based off of a work of Fanart by Kaciart on tumblr. I love her art work and she has drawn some of my favorite Thilbo and Fili/Kili pieces! if you have a minute you should go and check out her art! =D
> 
> The picture this was inspired by-------> http://kaciart.tumblr.com/post/40494581818
> 
> Her tumblr------> http://kaciart.tumblr.com/
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you liked it! Oh an feel free to point out any spelling or grammar errors.


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